


No Safe Place for Love

by Arach



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Drabble, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, POV Third Person Limited, Relationship Study, Reminiscing, Secret Relationship, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 01:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15256917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arach/pseuds/Arach
Summary: “Sometimes I hate you, sometimes I love you. I’m trying to decide which I’m feeling right now.”“The latter maybe? I am the one holding up this building before it crushes us."---a  drabble about lovers kept apart.





	No Safe Place for Love

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this was originally written in July 27, 2017 and posted on my tumblr as part of a prompt ask game i was doing!  
> i personally love re-reading it and thought that it deserves to be on my ao3 account, so here it is.
> 
> the title is inspired by this Richard Siken quote:  
> “You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet.” 
> 
> as always, happy reading!! :D

“Sometimes I hate you, sometimes I love you. I’m trying to decide which I’m feeling right now.”

“The latter maybe? I  _am_ the one holding up this building before it crushes us."

Charles stares up at Erik, taking in the way the other's faces is twisted in concentration. Or was it pain?

No, he comes to the conclusion that it's a mixture of both. The emotions were practically screaming at him and, in any other situation, he'd have them tapered down to something more bearable. He never did like seeing Erik's discomfort.

But the situation at hand involved him lying almost uselessly underneath Erik's body, surrounded by rubble that once made up someone's secret base, and the proximity's enough to keep him from concentrating properly. As always, honing in on the feel of Erik's mind is the only thing grounding him. The only thing keeping his mind free from the distraction of the world's overactive minds.

"What are you even doing here, Erik?"

Erik manages to break focus to look Charles deep in the eyes, a silent understanding passing between them, before he responds, "Gathering Intel."

He doesn’t provide any further explanation and continues to work on creating a safe way out of the rubble. Charles wants to push and interrogate, but then he remembers the moment they just had. The thought that Erik had given him, words crystal clear and safe in his own mind.

He hates not being of any help. It's why the loss of his legs devastated him so. Sure the wheelchair got him place but there was nothing better than running. The feel good burn in his legs. His heart beating against his eardrums. Erik had shown him that, back when…

Back when things were easier.

Better.

Oh they still loved each other madly, deeply. Like the eternal flame they'd lit the second they met. But loving's harder when in the midst of an unforgiving war bigger than the both of them.

“You could come back to us.” The words slip out without a second thought. This is another reason why he hated being so helpless. It gave him time to think and retreat into the confines of memories. The longing for what was hit him like a bullet train and when Erik finished his work only to fixate an unreadable gaze onto him, he wanted the rubble to swallow him up.

Erik, no longer needing to focus so hard on scrap metal, leans closer; his nose brushes against Charles and he can feel the heat of their breaths intermingling. It brings him back to nights in front of a roaring fire place, a chess set more intimate than a bed.

“I can’t, there’s nothing to go back to.” The ache caused by Erik's harsh truth is soothed by a kiss; passionate and soft and reverent. It breaks his heart and, really, that’s received more damage than his legs, but he accepts it.

Because he knows, they can’t return to what was.

They can only keep moving forward.

 

* * *

 

His wheelchair was lost, most likely broken, during the explosion.

Erik has to hold him upright, arm wound tightly around his waist as all his weight was on the other man, whilst he fashions together a new one. Charles didn’t mind. It was another familiar gesture and familiarity was a rarity during the times he could safely see his lover.

(and they were lovers for all Erik wouldn’t breathe a word about their relationship. Charles wouldn’t tell anyone either, not even if his life depended on it.)

Once he's settled in the makeshift wheelchair, Erik brings him back to the mansion. Well, he stops just outside the lines of security, keeping himself hidden as best he could as he “carries" Charles to the front doors of his home.

Charles opens himself up to the minds of his students, ever glowing with knowledge and hope and everything he wants for the future of humanity. Mixed in is the worry of his X-Men and that brings a small smile to his face. They're his family now and their safety means a lot to him.

He feels Erik beginning to get further away, making his way back to his own base (not a home, not in Charles’ eyes).

_Sometimes I hate you, sometimes I love you. And you know, old friend, that all the time… I care about you._

Of course Charles couldn’t let him leave without letting it be known. Seeing each other, that's easy. They saw each other all the time in the line of battle.   
Talking was rare, especially with that terribly awful helmet Erik insisted on keeping.

And talking about feelings?

Sharing  **I love you** and  **I miss you**?

Those were precious.

_Stay safe, Charles_

He scoffs at that and rolls his eyes. He hopes his fondness is evident through their mental conversation.

_Not much choice. I think I may have an extra pair of eyes watching me._

Erik smirks at that, his little quirk of the lips that only Charles had the pleasure of eliciting, and that’s the end of it. Erik’s slipped on his helmet and Charles’ gently booted from his head. It’s never a pleasant sensation, the space where Erik used to occupy every day now empty.

But he lives with it.

 

Now that he knows that the time between talking is lessened by growing hostilities,

he takes a deep breath,

and lives another day.


End file.
